"Why should I die?" inquired Prince Marvel, curiously.

"Because you have seen me. Should I allow you to go away you would
tell the world about my ugly face. I do not like to kill you, believe
me; but you must pay the penalty of your rashness--you and the man
behind you."

Nerle smiled at this; but whether from pride at being called a man or in
pleasurable anticipation of the sufferings to come I leave you to guess.

"Will you allow me to object to being killed?" asked the prince.

"Certainly," answered the king, courteously. "I expect you to object.
It is natural. But it will do you no good."

Then Terribus turned to an attendant and commanded:

"Send hither the Fool-Killer."

At this Prince Marvel laughed outright.

"The Fool-Killer!" he cried; "surely your Majesty does me little
credit. Am I, then, a fool?"

"You entered my kingdom uninvited," retorted the king, "and you tell
me to my face I am ugly. Moreover, you laugh when I condemn you to
death. From this I conclude the Fool-Killer is the proper one to
execute you. Behold!"

Marvel turned quickly, to find a tall, stalwart man standing behind